


Emboldening

by Misty_Reeyus



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Drunken Flirting, F/M, Foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misty_Reeyus/pseuds/Misty_Reeyus
Summary: Rokurou gives Eleanor her first drink. Eleanor gives Rokurou a good time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> a softer world prompt #9: [CAN’T STOP WON’T STOP NOT SURE HOW TO STOP (WHY STOP)](http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=1024)

Eleanor hitting her twentieth birthday means she’s now legally old enough to drink, so no way in hell is Rokurou going to wait even a second longer to finally introduce her to one of the greatest joys he’s ever known in life.

For their little celebration together, he made sure to get the best stuff: his favorite sake this side of the continent, which, in accordance with his own personal preference, lies as far on the sweet end of the scale as one can get. Entirely selfish choice on his part, of course, but there’s no guarantee Eleanor would even appreciate the drink, anyway. Honestly, part of him expects her to take a sip just to humor him before politely declining on anything more, so he might as well make sure at least one of them gets to enjoy this.

But Eleanor surprises him when, after downing her drink and contemplatively smacking her lips, she holds out her cup in a gesture for seconds.

“Wait, you seriously like it?!” Rokurou exclaims, lighting up with excitement.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Eleanor says, smiling apologetically, “but it’s not bad.” She gestures to his own cup that he’s in the process of refilling. “And since you obviously love it so much, I suppose I might as well see for myself what all the fuss is about.”

That’s good enough for Rokurou, so he pours her another.

Then another.

And another.

And it’s around this point that the effects kick in.

Rokurou can’t help but notice when Eleanor starts getting giggly, when their idle chatter is periodically interrupted by her quiet hiccups and cute little snorts. When suddenly, she seems inexplicably interested in body contact, casually shifting from her position on the couch into his lap, to which he doesn’t protest and accommodates by sliding an arm around her waist. When, as Rokurou reaches out to the bowl of assorted snacks to help himself to an amanatto, Eleanor decides it’d be fun to snatch the candied bean from his fingers and shove it into her mouth instead.

“Hey!” Rokurou yelps, narrowing his eyes. Eleanor just giggles again.

“You want it?” she teases, mumbling around the slight bulge in her cheek. “Come and get it.”

Eleanor instantly dislodges herself from his grasp, scooting over to the other end of the couch. But clearly, she’s not trying all that hard to get away, because despite how buzzed Rokurou is himself, he easily overtakes her. He pins her up against the armrest and captures her lips with his own, his tongue sliding in to repossess the now half-chewed amanatto before he pulls away and swallows.

His triumph is short-lived. With a smug grin, Eleanor clasps her arms around his neck, then promptly yanks him back in for a second go.

Damn, do her lips taste incredible.

Rokurou has never seen Eleanor act quite like this before. Sure, she ditched the goody-goody little Abbey girl aspect of herself a long time ago, but she’s still respectable at heart, and rarely ever this _bold_. She’s sometimes shy, even, and always way too serious, to the point that usually, when things start getting heated between them, Rokurou has to needle her for a while before she finally relaxes.

Now _she’s_ the one doing the needling, her fingers scraping over his arms, his chest, slipping beneath the fold of his kimono and ghosting over his abs in touches light and almost ticklish. Her hips start to buck up pointedly into his own and Rokurou instinctively grinds down on her in turn, his blood pumping, his core set alight. Eleanor pulls her hands back to shrug off her jacket and begin unclasping her dress, and Rokurou takes that as his cue to drift down her body, his hands positioned to dip beneath her frilly skirt—before he abruptly stops himself.

He really should check on something first.

“Hey, Eleanor,” Rokurou drawls. “Yer really sure ‘bout doin’ this right now?”

They’ve been bedding each other for almost a year, so it’s not like any of this is new, but Eleanor’s definitely at least tipsy at the moment and that _is_ a first time for her. Rokurou has his code—he refuses to take this from Eleanor if she’s not in the right state of mind to properly give it to him. Not to mention, the last thing he wants out of this relationship is to create any regrets.

But Eleanor simply laughs, looking incredulous that Rokurou even asked at all. “I’m not so drunk that my judgement’s impaired!” she gasps, and while there’s breathless amusement in her tone, there’s barely any slur to her voice. She at least _sounds_ decently coherent, moreso than Rokurou himself, anyway. “Maybe I’m loose, but I’m in my right mind, and I _want_ this.” She grabs him by both sides of his face, and when their gazes meet, bright green eyes are sparkling, looking far clearer than his own foggy head feels. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” Rokurou doesn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely.”

Eleanor smirks. “Then let’s do what we want.”

Her tone drips with mischief and promises, and that alone is enough to send heat shooting straight to his groin, so Rokurou doesn’t need any more convincing. He flips her skirt up, his hands grasping her hips to hold them steady, his head bending down between her legs. His movements are somewhat clumsy from his own drunkenness, but he knows what he’s looking for and finds it quickly enough, biting into that one spot on her inner thigh that never fails to drive her up the wall.

Eleanor yelps aloud, her whole body shuddering with pleasure, and Rokurou grins into her flesh.

“Oh, do you like that?” Rokurou remarks lightly, and stops to glance up at her. He’s teasing, forcing her to wait in suspense, and she predictably groans in protest of his inaction.

“ _Yes_ ,” Eleanor breathes, a beautiful flush to her cheeks and a frustrated whimper to her voice. “You _know_ I do, Rokurou, don’t stop, _please_ don’t stop.”

Rokurou chuckles. “If you say so.”

And he dips back down between her thighs, all too happy to resume where he left off.


End file.
